The Empty City (10 page)

“Are you all right?” panted Bella breathlessly.

“Of course! Come on!” Lucky sprang for her again.

Even Sunshine joined in, yelping wildly and spinning, trying hopelessly to jump on Martha and knock her over. Chasing Mickey in circles, Lucky spotted piles of the metal pots the Food House longpaw cooked with. He'd always liked the noise of those! Lucky plunged into the middle of the stacks, and the pots went flying with a most satisfying, deafening racket.

At last, exhausted, the dogs lay down panting one by one. Sunshine had found a pile of silk cushions; Mickey lay contentedly beside her. Lucky stretched out on the cold, hard floor, watching them all. As Daisy flopped beside him, he gave her ear an affectionate lick.

“Lucky, come up here!” Bella's head hung over the edge of a longpaw seat, her ears pricked.

Uncertainly he rose and put first one paw, then the other, against its soft cowhide body. He sprang onto it and curled up beside Bella, who gave a happy little whine and licked his nose.

Lucky closed his eyes, tilting his head up to wish for a good sleep.
Moon-Dog, watch over us....

“What are you doing?” Bella's surprised voice broke into his reverie.

“What am I—?” Lucky paused, dumbfounded. “I'm getting ready to sleep....”

“You
are
ready to sleep.” She stared at him as he turned three times.

Lucky stopped turning and cocked his head at her curiously. Didn't Bella prepare for rest properly? He lowered his head, sniffing dubiously at the longpaw seat, then met her eyes.

“Stop fidgeting, Lucky,” she said softly.

“I can't help it.” He shifted position, trying to settle.“This is just too comfy....”

“No such thing.” She yawned. “You'll get used to it quickly, believe me!”

Lucky thought about that for a few moments. “You must have been happy with your longpaws,” he said softly.

“I was....”

“Where are they now? What happened, Bella?”

“Oh.” She laid her head on her forepaws, lifting her ears as if hearing something in her memory. She sighed. “It was such a rush, when the Big Growl came. Such a terrible panic. They left in a great hurry. Piled all their possessions into their loudcage, and drove away. All their possessions,” she murmured sadly, “except me.”

Well, what did she expect? They were longpaws, weren't they? She shouldn't have relied on them, shouldn't have built her happiness on a Leashed life … but Lucky nuzzled his sister's head and licked at her ear. “I'm sorry, Bella.”

“That's all right, Lucky. I don't miss them. Not much, anyway. I can't be that sad—they left me behind, after all.
They
abandoned
me
.” There was bitterness in her voice, but she shook herself.

Now you're beginning to understand
, thought Lucky. He was sorry she'd been hurt, but the sooner she hardened herself against her old life, the happier she'd be. There was hope for her.

“Besides,” she went on, “I have other things to think about. My friends, for a start. They need someone to take charge. I don't have time to mope.”

“Good for you,” said Lucky, glad his litter-sister was so practical and unsentimental. Just like him, in fact. She'd make a good Free Dog....

“But what happened to you, Lucky?”

“What do you mean?”

“After the Pup Pack.”

“Oh …” Lucky closed his eyes. What was the point in dragging up those memories? They weren't happy ones. Still, Bella was his sister. He could tell her. If he could recall it …

The memories were hazy and half-blurred, like looking into a pond for small prey that kept dodging out of view. But slowly, haltingly, they began to take shape.

“I remember them taking me … the longpaws. They smiled, looked happy … oh! I didn't wriggle.” He raised the muscles above his eyes, surprised. “I didn't try to get free. That's so strange. Why didn't I run away?”

“We didn't,” said Bella. “Not then. Not as pups. Go on.”

“I remember the longpaws' house.” Beyond the broken clear-stone at the mall entrance, lightning lit the world for an instant, followed by the crash and thunder as the Sky-Dog battle resumed. The dreadful sound echoed the unhappiness of Lucky's memories, and a shudder ran through his flanks. “The longpaws didn't smile so much, there, in their home. There were small longpaws, like pups. They never left me alone. Chasing me, picking me up, teasing me. I remember being so tired, just wanting to be left alone …”

“Longpaw pups are like that,” Bella said, nodding. “But they're not so bad once they get used to you.”

“No, but the big longpaw was. He was strange. Sometimes he toppled over, like an old tree, and he smelled so wrong. Like the longpaw fire-juice, but stale. When he smelled very badly of it, he couldn't stay on his legs. And he would get so angry. I remember …” Lucky closed his eyes more tightly, not liking the effort of recollection. “I remember his paws more than anything. Kicking out at me. Sometimes getting me. He shouted and kicked and was always angry, even when he didn't smell of that fire-juice.”

Bella nuzzled him. “Your longpaws don't sound like mine at all.”

“Some longpaws are good, that's true.” Lucky thought of the Food House longpaw with a twinge of sadness. “But not this one. All I wanted to do was get away from him. He scared me. One day the door was open—by mistake, I think—and I made a run for it. I ran and ran and …”

“And?”

“And I never went back.” He sighed, relieved the story was over. “Things have been good for me ever since then. I've been happy on my own, and I've learned to take care of myself. I don't have to be scared of anyone anymore, and I never will be, ever again.”

Bella nestled closer against him.

“Do you remember the stories Mother used to tell us when we were pups?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Lucky, thinking of the flash of lightning he'd just seen.

“I'm thinking about the story of Omega Wind and the Forest-Dog. Do you remember it?”

Lucky frowned. “Not completely,” he said. He licked his litter-sister's ear affectionately. “How did it go?”

“Well, there was once a little dog called Wind who was the least important dog in her Pack. They called her Omega and made her fetch and carry for them and do everything they said. The Alpha of the Pack was a cruel Fierce Dog who always bit Wind whenever she was too slow in carrying out his orders.

“But Wind dreamed of leaving the Pack and being free from all her duties, and she used to sneak into the forest and hunt small creatures by herself. Omega dogs were forbidden to hunt, so she always ate half of her prey and left the rest as a tribute to Forest-Dog.

“Then the Storm of Dogs arrived, and the world turned upside down. Wind's Pack was one of the first to be attacked by the giant dogs who came down from the mountains. Wind ran away into the forest, with one of the giant dogs on her heels, and she thought she would be caught and torn to shreds.

“But Forest-Dog had been watching Wind since she started to leave him her tribute, and he loved her because she was cunning and she wouldn't give up, just like the Sky-Dogs loved Lightning for his speed. So Forest-Dog helped her to climb into a tree so that the giant dogs couldn't find her, and she was saved from the Storm of Dogs.

“From that day on, Wind was a Lone Dog, going wherever she pleased and never obeying any Alpha dog's command again. You'll never see her, but sometimes when you're in the deep forest you can hear her, howling in the trees with her friend the Forest-Dog.”

Bella nuzzled Lucky. “You remind me of that story,” she said. “You escaped, and it made you a strong, free Lone Dog. I'm just sorry your longpaw Alpha was so cruel.”

Lucky laid his head down beside Bella's. Of course he didn't need the sympathy she was offering him, but just lying next to her again, after all this time, felt reassuring. The fear and the loneliness of this sunup seemed very distant with his litter-sister here. Huddled against her warm side, listening to her tell one of their Mother-Dog's stories, it was as if something unlocked in his mind. The happy times flooded back into his head as he thought of his days with the Pup Pack, that misty muddle of sensations: safety and affection and fullness in his belly. And companionship …

They had been good days. But that was a long time ago, Lucky reminded himself. The company of other little dogs was natural for a puppy—as natural as needing his Mother-Dog beside him, looking after him and loving him. But he wasn't a puppy anymore. He was a grown dog, a Lone Dog.

Lucky didn't think he'd ever be able to sleep on this too-comfortable longpaw seat, and he lay for a while listening to the snores of Bruno, the small dream-whimpers of Sunshine and Daisy, the low, soft breathing of Bella beside him. All the same he must have dozed off, because the next thing he was aware of was shafts of late sunlight reaching into the broken mall, making the other dogs stir and stretch and whine.

The roar and clash of the Sky-Dog battle in the sky had ceased altogether, and water no longer battered down. From outside came the beautiful scent of a fresh new day, washed clean by the cloudwater. Bella raised her head as Lucky got to his feet and stretched his forepaws.

“The Sky-Dogs have destroyed the clouds,” he mused. “That's good.”

“It's
very
good,” cried Daisy. “Time to go home!”

“Yes!” yipped Sunshine. “Come on, then. Let's go!”

“Wait a minute.” Lucky looked at them all, perplexed. “Home?

Where's home?”

“Where we come from, of course!” Bella licked his face.

“Come with us!” Sunshine jumped up against his flanks, panting with adoration.

“Our longpaws are gone,” said Martha mournfully. “But our homes are still there.”

Bruno nodded sagely. “They're quite right, Lucky. Shame to be on your own. You're tough, I dare say, but even you probably need someone to watch your back now and then.” The dog flexed his muscles and leaned forward on his long, strong forelegs. “Bit of a fighter myself, you know? Handy in a tight corner. How about it, hm?”

In their varying ways they all had that pleading look. Bruno was trying not to appear too eager, but he wasn't hiding it well. Mickey, his precious belonging still in his jaws, was gazing at him with beseeching eyes, as was Martha. As for the two littler dogs, they were jumping up and down at him till Lucky felt like swatting them with a paw.

He sighed, and glanced at Bella. She, too, was looking at him with a combination of kindness and fervent hope, and he remembered how good it had felt, waking up at her side.

Old Hunter was right—the Big Growl didn't have to change them—but perhaps Lone Dogs could make temporary concessions in a strange new world. There would be no longpaws in this “home” they talked about, but there might be a few comforts. The decision was simple, when he thought of it like that.

“Yes, all right,” he said. “I'll come with you. For now!”

Bella yipped, dancing with delight, and the others gave in to a volley of happy barks, Daisy spinning on her hindpaws till she fell over. Lucky watched them, flattered that he was the source of such excitement.

Lucky still wasn't a Pack-dog, and he never would be. But who in their right mind would call
this
a proper Pack?

“
Oh, we were friends long before
the Big Growl,” explained Bruno as he muscled his way to Lucky's side. “Isn't that right, everyone?”

They'd left the mall far behind now, and Lucky was conscious that the territory was growing far less familiar. He'd usually haunted the bustling parts of the city where scraps were plentiful—as were hiding places. Now the views were opening up, and the streets grew broader and leafier. Remembering the longpaw's firebox yesterday, and the Fierce Dog who'd guarded it, Lucky's senses bristled with alertness.

The shadows were lengthening again, and the ruins of high buildings were haloed in brilliant light. Fountains of water still gushed from broken pipes, the droplets glittering prettily, and around him Lucky recognized the kind of once-neat houses where longpaws lived and slept. Uneasily, he wondered when those longpaws would return—and whether they ever would. Surely they'd come back for their lost companions? He knew longpaws didn't like to leave their friends to dissolve naturally into the earth, that they liked to bury them as if they were preserving precious bones. So why hadn't they returned yet?